Her eyes flickered like a alarmed fire truck, on the go to save a life. He stole her wooden heart. The name of her love, carved deep in the center. Her fragile fingers convulse at the speed of the romance novel playing on her rewired satellite TV. Between her pointer and middle finger held a cigarette. In the left hand: a bottle of cheap wine she had bought for 8 euros from the store just across the street. Her hand fumbles down the side of her open apartment window. She scratches the gold paint on the walls as it chips off and falls to the ground. She wonders if she'll ever love again. The bed post is torn. The bits and pieces lay on the creamy white carpet from the night before. A plate with chicken sat on the nightstand. The room smell of torture, sex, and loneliness. Her clothes were tattered and wrinkled. The light in the room wasn't as bright as her fierce bright green eyes. She glares out the window looking down on those who are walking alone tonight. She flicks the cigarette from her hand and closes the cracked window. She takes deep, meaningful steps leading to the end of her bed where the blankets are smashed together. She glances at the clock: 12:49 AM. She takes a soothing sip of her red wine. Her lips pressed against the tip of the transparent cup. Her eyes flutter shut. She throws the cup at the TV and her heels take off. Her toes barley hanging on. Her body waves by the window and her arms flail like birds. Her face collides into the light green sheets. Her toes curl and her hands frostbite cold. Her chapped lips enlighten the slice missing from her bottom lip. The TV turns to static.

Alone and not lost

She walks down the street, knowing she's got no where. She doesn't know how to live and she's hanging on like a leaf. She's about ready to fall and flow away, along with the wind. She's just about done walking the streets, looking for the next destination. She's got no idea where she's headed but she keeps her shoes clean and keeps walking along the path to no where. She's got family somewhere, but she doesn't see what she's missing out on, because she's never experianced love in any form. She's scared, but she accepts how her life is and will be, because she's lost all hope. She doesn't believe in religion. She doesn't pray. She only depends upon herself, that's all she's got and all she's ever had. Her mother birthed her, but she didn't want her. Didn't keep her. She never planned on it either. She's got nothing to look forward to, ever. She lives each of her days, trying to survive. Trying to stay alive. Trying to stay in control. Resisting suicide, resisiting violence. Trying to find a way out. A 5 dollar bill makes her smile, because she can buy a warm meal. A ragged dirty sweater makes her happy, because it can keep her warm at night. All she wants it to be saved. She never asked for this. She's stuck and living her life in a circle. No fun, no excitement, no love, no joy, no happiness.

He took a step into the golden room. Only to find himself surrounded by exquisite art. He let go of his phone, and drafted himself across the room, endlessly staring at the silver clouds that were peaking through the crack in the wooden wall. It reminded him of his beloved daughter. He stood there for an extended time, just creatively thinking of how he could give back to his dead daughter. His phone rumbled on the old aluminum table. It made such an awful sound. He rapidly ran and answered his phone. An unknown phone number, an unknown voice.

“Hello?”

“Your daughter, she wants you to know, she loves you. Dream of her, think of her, but don’t for a second question yourself if she asked for anything more than your love. She's been watching you lately, and I know you may not understand, but don’t worry about the past, it’s the past for a reason. Did you, for even a split second, look around you? You think this room was just put here for no reason? No, look around you damnit! What do you see?”

“Who is thi-?”

“I am no one important, now shush and look around you, right now!”

The man was confused, and the least bit interested in the walls of art. But as demanded, he spun himself around the room, noticing familiar pieces of art. It’s been years since he has looked at such beautiful masterpieces, such as those.

“I, I don’t know what do to now, I looked around the room… How do you know where I am?”

“Don’t question me. Tell me, who’s the artist, who made those pieces?”

“I don’t know…”

“You do. You know him better than anyone in the whole world.”

The man seemed to have his eyes stuck on one, very, acquainted painting. He then noticed it had some kind of force on him, a very powerful force. The painting was of a girl, she was beautiful. 8 years of age. The texture was a cloud like glass, which made the picture look as though she was living in the sky. Her eyes were gold, almost as gold as the wallpaper of the room. Minutes later did he then notice a signature on the side of a painting.

“The name on that painting is the artist, read it” Said the unknown caller.

“It’s… me.”

“It is you. Do you know who the girl in the painting is?”

“That…. that’s my daughter.”

“Yes, everything in this room was created by you, John. And do you have any idea how long it has been since you touched a paintbrush? Way too long, and I want you to look at the rest of these paintings once I leave you to yourself. I want you to experience flash backs, I want you to think of your daughter, because she wants you to move on with your life. She desperately wants you to be happy, and not worry about her. She is safe and watching over you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, I just know. And she wants you to continue painting. Remember when you were in your workshop, painting away, and Elizabeth would sneak through the window. Always getting paint on her nose when she was ‘helping’. When she got a slither in her finger from the un-sanded table. When you finished a painting, she would tell you she was proud, and that she would buy your paintings when she saved up enough money. You need to keep these memories hidden somewhere safe, because you may have forgotten the most important thing in life, being happy.”

“I… I’m not too sure what to say. You are one hundred percent right, about everything. I cannot believe I forgot I painted these pictures. I can’t believe it. I just… there is loss of words to say right now. I can’t…”

“Don’t speak, Elizabeth understands. She knows the pain you feel. She feels it too. Just remember, keep painting, and keeping her in your thoughts. She loves you, never forget that.”

“I never did forget, I just- hello?”

The line went dead. After questioning all that he had, he got the answers he was looking for. Then did he realize he was laying in bed, staring out the window. He wasn’t sleeping, he knew that for sure. He didn’t know what had happened just that moment, but whatever it was; he knew now what he had to do. He got up, opened the chest at the bottom of his bed, and walked out of the room, with a paintbrush in hand.

"I love you"

The depths of the black rock fall to the surface.

Her face, cherry red. As her eyes explore below, beyond, and above.
The strange crinkles and crackles of the forsaken place they discovered.

He struggled, stretching his tethered bones out to reach.
Her hand shakes, and the rock began to separate from it's whole.
"I lo-"
It splits, crumbles, and pulls away from each other, gravity separating the two.

She whimpers.
An ice cold tear trickles down her freckled cheek and falls, down, into darkness.
Her arms slowly giving out. They begin to falter back to her sides.
Her eyes are dazed. Struggling to stay open. Staring at him, tense.
Her body flows back and forth, like a sail boat setting to sea.

Too loud to hear.
Too loud to speak.

The tip of her shoelace bending over the edge of the moving platform.
She falls backwards, her eyes flush, like they're waving goodbye.
She drifts into a deep concentrated figure of sleep as her fray body hit the wet gravel.
Her eyes; tight shut, as he realizes her beating heart, belonged to him.

A light shot on the breathless girl.

A force of wind blew through the winter air.
It blew his dark golden hair and his ear tickled with pleasure.

"-ve you"

His name was Jon.
Her name was Jane.
No longer could he spare the pain.

Her teeth were black.
Black as coal.
She is determined to tear up every soul.

Her eyes glisten in the midnight snow.
His face turns red.
She's ready, set, go.

He runs in sweat, pain, and fear.
She's whispering to you; "Come here my dear."

He's out of breath, behind a wall.
She's never fooled, she knows it all.

She creeps behind and blows the air.
He shivers in fright. "She's not there."

Her wrath so strong.
She takes a bite.

And tomorrow is yet, just another night.

Mistaken Love

My cheek is tense, pressed against the frozen window on the second floor of the hotel.

You quietly seek your way beyond noticeable and creep up behind.

Your hand so cold, gently brushed the arch of my back leaving me a cold sensation of guilt.

I'm clothless.

My tears burn on the window's glare, leaving a trail of wet, salty; disgrace.

The lies.
The horrid truth poked it's way through.

You manage to be silent, so silent it was irrational.

I creek my neck to the right.
I see a disappointed, lonesome, hurt; boy.

I focused on your shadowed face, your eyes were only lines of black, as too your mouth.

"Forever may have ended sooner than we realized, your lies have left me with the least bit of happiness. I expected more from a girl as so pretty as you. You deserve better, I'm sorry your time was wasted on such a worthless boy like myself. Excuse my ruthless doings for not keeping you together. Fulfill your wishes sweet girl. I was not up to your standards to keep up with such a unforgettable girl. I was just not the one. Through all the time i loved you, every moment was to cherish. Find a good man, like him, to hold onto forever. For i; give up on love. I found it but it doesn't seek me to be the man of her fantasy. I shall see you in heaven lovely girl, your definitely too much of an angel for hell."

And that was the day i mistaken the meaning of love.